


How to Destroy Angels

by missyouforever



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Historical, Multi, Mystery, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28577043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missyouforever/pseuds/missyouforever
Summary: After being wrongly accused of the murder of her fiancé, Bella Swan is trying to find stability in her broken life. Until a mysterious brown-haired boy reveals an unearthly secret about the man she loved, and she embarks on a time-bending journey to avenge her family name...AU/Non-Human (but not quite vampires)
Relationships: Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Jacob Black/Bella Swan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue: How Brittle the Bones

_**16th August** **2005** _

The sky was still dark when my eyelids fluttered open, although I swore I had slept for hours, and we had not gone to bed until the early hours of the morning. The rock that sat heavily on my left ring finger reminded me why waves crashed against the walls of the dark bedroom I laid in, and my stomach immediately turned from motion sickness. My head throbbed, and my eyelashes were crusty from forgotten mascara. We must have celebrated hard.

I was surprised that James had not forgotten our anniversary this year, despite many years neglecting our special day. Although I liked to play off that the lack of sentiment failed to affect me, my heart continued to break every time he came home empty-handed, skulking into our bedroom to arrange meetings with clients. A businessman to the core, it had been accepted in our relationship that he was married to his job, and I was simply his lowly mistress.

Although, it was more that it was something I had been told and had to accept.

So, when James pulled me into his sleek new car and drove us down to the marina, I could not quite comprehend the candles that stretched out before me, nor the motor yacht that bobbed upon the waves. In an act of disbelief, the word _yes_ escaped my lips before I could comprehend what it truly meant; what I had, tonight, condemned myself to. Rubbing a manicured hand across my forehead, I reached across the silk sheets with my other to find my fiancé.

My skin was simply greeted by cold, sticky material. "James…?"

The liquid lining the bedsheets felt uneasy against my palms, but I figured we had spilled champagne on the bed in our giddy shenanigans. Grabbing my nightgown from the back of an armchair, I draped the luxurious garment over my exposed frame. My eyes were still yet to adjust to the darkness around me as I staggered towards the stairs that led to the top deck, expecting to find James on some business call on the sun-loungers.

As I took a step, I could feel the same thick substance pool between my toes as I had just found on our bed, and an iron-like scent filled my nostrils. _Was the champagne off?_ I asked myself as awkwardly fumbled for the light switch.

When light replaced darkness, I wished I had never woken up.

Claret, syrupy blood coated the decking of the floor, matching the hue of my newly painted toenails. The substance was also splattered across the walls of the vessel and mapped-out my route to the top deck. Clasping a hand across my opened mouth, I could not stop myself from vomiting on the wood, a guttural moan of agony escaping in its wake.

" _James!_ " I wailed, racing up the stairs before me. Careful to avoid the pools of blood on the floor, my eyes frantically searched the top deck for any sign of my fiancé, desperately praying that this was some ridiculous wine-drunk nightmare and that I would wake up to the comfort of his arms. Instead, something glimmered in the moonlight. Gingerly lifting the item, another moan escaped my lips.

_The knife James had used earlier to prepare the strawberries for our celebratory glasses was now saturated in his blood._

A sudden flash of light almost made me drop the utensil onto the decking, and instead, I clutched the metal against my chest. As hideous as it sounded, this was all I currently had left of the man I loved.

"This is the Coastguard – Ma'am, are you hurt?" A voice boomed from a speaker on the approaching boat, penetrating my racing thoughts.

I opened my mouth to reply, but it was almost as though the knife had cut my own tongue from my mouth.

_My future husband…was dead._

* * *

**A/N: I watched Double Jeopard** **y the other night and then I went onto TikTok, and an idea came to me. No clue how it's going to go but I'm excited to explore this world with you all!**

**Let me know your thoughts!**

**missyouforever x**


	2. The Sound of Forgetting

_**October 14th, 2012** _

It was still dark when I pulled my ancient Chevrolet pick-up into the parking lot of the café, and I settled the beast into an open space next to Dad's favorite oak tree. Killing the engine, I reveled in the heat of the truck's cab, bracing myself for the crisp, Washington air that awaited me outside. Unfortunately, I always drew the short straw when it came to taking the early morning shifts from my siblings – Seth and Leah knew how to get exactly what they wanted from Sue.

"Morning, Dad," I called out as I strode into the café, hitting the switch for the neon OPEN sign that hung on the front door; it awoke with a dull _hum_. Garish lights reflected off the green gingham tablecloths Charlie had bought the other day from Billy Black – I made a mental note to look for replacements when I got home.

"Morning, sweet pea," He replied from the kitchen, and I could hear bacon already sizzling on the grill.

Dad had been the proud owner of _Clearwater's Bites_ , sharing the responsibility with his wife, Sue, for almost ten years. Nestled into the sleepy heart of Forks, Washington, Charlie had surprised Sue with the café as an engagement present after she told him about her life-long dream of owning a restaurant. In the summer of 2002, he became the head-chef, Sue ran the front-of-house, and waitressing shifts were shared out between me, Seth and Leah. I was happy to see that the place was still standing when I was released from prison.

I doubted anyone else would have wanted to hire a convicted murderer to make small talk with their regulars.

"Expecting it to be busy today?" I inquired, making polite small talk as I rolled napkins neatly around pairs of knives and forks.

"Not too sure, Bells. It _is_ a Sunday so I doubt we'll be rammed, but, then again, I could be wrong. We'll have to see."

 _Thank goodness,_ I thought, breathing a sigh of relief into the growing stack of cutlery; at least there wouldn't be so many whispers and stares.

"Sounds good, Dad! I'm sure we'll be able to hold down the fort!"

I enjoyed working shifts with Charlie – neither of us were particularly big talkers, so we worked side-by-side in comfortable silence, nodding at each other as we passed. While he set about preparing for the breakfast shift, I worked at serving the odd customer, giving the place a scrub when we were quiet – my siblings were not as pedantic at cleaning as I was, so I think Charlie and Sue were happy to have me in the shop.

The early birds were my favorite people to serve because, where the café was quiet, I was able to pay close attention to what they ordered. Gladys, along with her Labrador, Skip, came in for her regular one-shot cappuccino with extra chocolate dusting, while an elderly gentleman in a bowler hat ordered a simple tea and sat against the far-window, reading a newspaper. I let my mind conjure a story where the two used to be high-school sweethearts, but were torn apart when Gladys' mother died, and she went to live with her aunt. After seven years with very little to do, I had learned to become reliant on my imagination.

It was around two hours into my shift that a stream of customers began to build, and our small parking lot became crammed with a plethora of vehicles. A buzz of chatter filled the room as people shared stories over cups of steaming liquid, and my heart swelled. When people were paying little attention to me, I felt content to find myself amongst a crowd again.

"Welcome to _Clearwater's Bites_ ," I chirped cheerfully, placing two laminated menus before a new table of customers. They were two brawny construction workers, and both wore black t-shirts that clung to their bulging chests, stained with streaks of paint and dust. "What can I get for you today?"

"Aren't you the woman who murdered her fiancé?"

The pen began to shake between my fingers, but I couldn't tell whether it was from anger or the tears that stung my eyes. My prison sentence came to an end a month ago, and, although the accident happened in 2005, my presence in town seemed to stir up old memories. The front page of every national press had covered the story from the moment the coastguard pulled The Victoria to shore, and I had been led off the deck in handcuffs. I would get the occasional inquiry as to whether I was happy to be back in town, or what I planned to do with my time now I had returned to Forks.

It was the direct questions that always threw me off.

"Uhm," I murmured, struggling to get my thoughts straight. "No, I don't think that was me, but I appreciate the inquiry."

"Oh, come on, it's definitely you! Isabella, isn't it?" The weaker of the two men smirked as he leaned back in his chair, taking in the view of my beat-up Levi's from behind. "I would recognize that ass _anywhere_."

I clicked my tongue against my teeth as I turned away from his gaze and looked around briefly to see if anyone had overheard what he said. No-one seemed to be paying attention to our interaction.

"Would you like some tea with that misogyny, Paul?" His friend remarked from behind his menu, throwing a glare in his direction. Paul sat back up in his chair.

"Would _you_ just fuck off, Jake? I'm only messing with the pretty lady." He turned back to me. "You were definitely the lass I had pinned up in my locker last year."

"That's wonderful. Do you want me to autograph it for you?"

" _Ay, Mami_ , is this that famous temper of yours? Hopefully, there's no sharp objects around."

Paul winked; I seethed.

"It's eight in the morning, for Christ's sake," Paul's tanned friend spat as he handed me his menu. "We'll take two Americanos. Black, no sugar."

"No problem," I replied, plastering my best customer service smile across my face. "Coming right up!"

"You could always leave me your number instead," Paul hollered at me as I shuffled back behind the counter, drowning out my racing thoughts with the noisy _whirr_ of grinding coffee beans.

"Alright, sweetheart?" Charlie poked his head around the entrance to the kitchen, forehead glittering with sweat. He held two plates of eggs in his hands. "Not causing you trouble, are they?"

I punched the double-shot button a little _too_ hard on our clunky coffee machine, watching the black liquid splutter into the awaiting cup. "Nothing I can't handle, Dad."

"Are you sure? I haven't seen them around before, so I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I told them to move along?"

I peeked over at the men again as I waited for their cups to fill. Paul sat texting on a cell-phone, no doubt something about me; his friend…Jake, I think it was, glanced over and smiled. I darted my gaze back to the coffee.

"Honestly, Dad, it's chill," I placed the now-steaming cups of coffee onto two saucers, grabbing a pot of sugar cubes. "Like you said, they're not regulars. Probably won't ever see them again."

Charlie nodded. "Chin up, Princess, don't let-"

"-Your tiara fall," I finished, turning back towards Paul and Jake. "I got it, Dad."

Gingerly returning to their table, I placed a cup in front of each of the men and practically ran back behind the counter before they could make any more remarks. I avoided looking in their direction for the duration of their stay, feeling relaxed as I watched them take the last swigs of their drinks.

Until Jake started walking towards the counter. Feeling my heart in my stomach, I pretended to be writing something on a spare blackboard.

"Hey," He said, standing awkwardly in front of the register. "I just came to bring this back. No sugar, remember?"

He placed the neglected sugar pot in front of me; I shook my head. "Oops, sorry. Just one of those mornings."

"No problem, I get that." He chuckled. "I kept waiting for you to come back to collect it. Seemed like you were avoiding our table…?"

"You're observant," I remarked. "Didn't want your friend to harass me again."

"Yeah, I also came over to say sorry about Paul. He's a bit too forward sometimes."

"Don't worry, I'm used to it." I picked up the sugar pot and wiggled it. "Thanks for bringing this back."

Jake smiled, and we stood there in silence for a moment. His brown eyes bore into mine for longer than I expected, and I looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up.

"Right, I completely forgot to introduce myself, I'm Jake-" He stretched his hand towards me. "Jacob Black. My father owns the furniture shop in town."

"Isabella Swan," I giggled, taking his outstretched hand. "You must know my dad then. Charlie?"

"Probably not, I only just moved into town. I used to live with my Mom."

"Oh, cool, what happened to your Mom, if you don't mind my asking?"

"It's nothing like that, she just got remarried." Jacob looked at the floor. "Moved to Canada."

"Didn't fancy it?"

"Not really; wasn't up for moving sticks, I'd just got my job here."

"Construction, yeah?"

"At Forks High School."

"Nice – I used to go there, definitely could have used a revamp back then."

"Well, luckily we're here now!" We both smiled at each other. "That must mean you know Forks pretty well?"

I crooked an eyebrow at him. "Hmm, it depends why you're asking..."

"I was looking for a tour guide if you were up for it? Need someone to show me the ins and outs, stuff like that."

"Paul's not good enough for that?" Looking behind him, I expected to see his friend leering at us, but I was pleasantly surprised to find an empty table.

"He's not the greatest company."

"That's fair. I'm working the next coupla' nights, but maybe Thursday? I get off at 6."

"Sounds great." Flashing another smile, I realized how perfect his teeth were.

"Perfect – I'll show you the literal two bars in town."

Jacob took a napkin from the stack next to the counter, and pulled a pen from his back pocket, roughly scribbling down a series of numbers before handing it to me. "My number. Call if you need to cancel."

"I'll try not to," I flushed. "See you Thursday."

"Looking forward to it."

My heartbeat did not slow to a regular pace until Jake had safely clambered into his truck, and I watched Paul drive them out of the parking lot. I hadn't been the subject of a man's affection for what seemed like a lifetime. _Had it always made me this giddy?_

"Hey, Bells," Charlie's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"What's up, Dad?"

"Would you mind making me up a large pot of tea? I'm just going to say hello to Carlisle over there!"

Nodding eagerly, I set about grabbing our best porcelain pot from the shelf, settling the open-top under the tap of hot water, and switched it on. Charlie always spoke highly of Carlisle, a doctor who worked at the local hospital, and I was always in awe of his wife, Esme, when she accompanied him for a coffee and a croissant. They looked perfect, like models, with porcelain-smooth skin, and matching caramel-colored hair. I felt scrawny and inferior in comparison.

He occupied the corner table, where the elderly gentleman had sat this morning, but his wife was nowhere in sight. Instead, he was joined by a statuesque blonde with legs for days, a Herculean man who looked like he could break my head between one bicep, and a willowy boy with unruly, russet hair. Despite his form being covered by a long-sleeved black roll-beck, I could see his hands were extremely pale. In fact, they all were.

They all looked as though they had never felt a drop of Vitamin D in their lives.

Dad tottered over to their table, shaking Carlisle's hand with a grin. He had it draped on the shoulder of the tall, pale boy when I arrived with the tea.

"Ah, Isabella, perfect timing! This is Rosalie and Emmett, Carlisle's niece and her boyfriend," Charlie said, gesturing at the blonde and her burly man; I nodded politely and they returned the favor. "And this is Edward, Carlisle's son."

Once again, I nodded in the direction of Edward but he only grunted in response, grabbing for the pot of tea, and pouring himself a cup. Compared to Jacob, he had the manners of a toilet brush.

"He's a little shy," Emmett reassured, nudging Edward in the ribs.

"No worries," I blathered. "Enjoy!"

I hurried back to the counter almost as quickly as before, except I was sure no one was trying to stare at my butt this time. I knew Edward did not owe me anything – it had been a pretty awkward introduction from Charlie anyway – but a smile wouldn't have hurt anyone. I glanced back over towards Carlisle's table and caught Edward staring at me, eyebrows furrowed together. Just as Jacob had done earlier, I pulled my lips into a tight smile. He cocked his head to one side, briefly, as though mentally sizing me up. Finally, he smirked back, turning then to engage in passionate conversation with his family of perfect specimens.

I had a feeling, deep within me, that this wasn't going to be the last time I saw this brown-haired boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, we love a bit of sexual tension, don't we?
> 
> I am planning on updating How To Destroy Angels every week, but I seem to be pumping out the chapters so they could come earlier!
> 
> As always, don't forget to let me know what you think! I've been posting inspiration and moodboards to my tumblr so if you want any extra content, you can find me there: /goldenonionstan
> 
> See you for the next chapter! :)


	3. Pinned and Mounted

"Okay, Bells, truth or dare…would you rather eat worms every day for an afternoon snack, or bathe in blood once a week for the rest of your life?"

"Uh," It took me a second to process Leah's question. "What kind of movies have you been watching recently?"

"Just answer the question. I'm curious."

"The worms…definitely the worms."

"Really, why?"

"There's got to be some kind of nutrition in worms, especially if you're eating them every day. And I'm sure I could get used to the texture after a little while. I feel like blood wouldn't have many benefits for your skin."

"I dunno though. I swear someone in history used to do it…"

"Who was that?" I raised an eyebrow at her, pulling a croissant from the pastry stand and placing it on a plate. Leah shrugged.

"Not quite sure," she stated as she picked up the tray, balancing the two cappuccinos that also sat upon it. "I'll have to get back to you on that one."

The last few days had passed by slowly as I plowed through my shifts at _Clearwater's_ , but Thursday eventually rolled around and so too did my night out with Jacob. I refrained from calling it a date because I didn't feel comfortable looking at it romantically. I was not quite ready to get involved with another guy just yet – not after everything that happened before. Charlie had put me on shift alongside my younger sister, Leah, and she had spent the last three hours asking every little detail about my new friend. As much as I told her I didn't know much about him, I enjoyed the passing conversation in between serving customers.

I never quite got on with my sister when we were younger before the accident occurred. We were far too different – even at such a young age, Leah was horrendously outgoing and seemed to thrive in the company of her copious number of friends. On the other hand, I preferred to stay in the presence of a select group and tended not to stray far from what I was comfortable with. She never failed to tease me for our dissimilarities, and, unfortunately for Charlie, we were both not the type to back down from a fight.

Since I had been released from prison, our relationship seemed to have changed for the better. In the years that had passed, I always looked forward to postal days, because they bought a new letter from Leah along with them. Although we were many miles apart from one another, she made me feel as though I had constant company, a friend, someone to rely upon on the outside, and new-found respect had developed between the two of us. Now, we spent our evenings nestled together on the couch, watching crappy sitcoms on TV, and making up for the lost time.

Even now, seven years later, our differences were still quite obvious. Today, Leah's hips also adorned a chequered apron, but she had coupled hers with a pair of denim shorts; a brave choice in the biting Fall air. Her bare, tanned legs stretched out beneath her, and I could not help glancing at them in envy. My pale, stumpy pins seemed undesirable in comparison, and I had them hidden under my Levi's again. I made a mental note to join Leah in the summer when she went surfing down at La Push beach and make a start on my own golden glow.

I watched her disappear into the kitchen when Charlie called for service and she returned carrying two steaming pots of beef stew – a favorite with the clientele of _Clearwater's_. She came out smirking.

"Dad said you can leave early to get ready for your _dateeee_ with _Jakeeee_ ," she sang mischievously, throwing a wink towards the coffee machine where I stood scrubbing at a milk pot.

"It's not a date, Leah, I barely know the guy," I replied with a groan and she poked her tongue in my direction as she placed the bowls in front of a pair of elderly gentlemen; they smiled warmly at her. Leah had such wonderful energy and it seemed to be contagious in anyone in close contact.

"You keep _saying_ that, but you don't know," Leah teased as she came back behind the counter, snatching the milk pot away before I could react. I tried to grab it back, but she held it out of my reach. "He could be the love of your life."

"Or a serial killer desperate to wear my skin like a winter jacket."

"Ask him my would-you-rather question! If he replies the blood bath, then run."

"Very funny, Leah." I untied the apron from my waist. "I'm just gonna go say bye to Dad."

"Good luck, Bells," Leah called out. "Don't forget to wrap it before you tap it."

My cheeks flushed as I disappeared into the safety of the kitchen. Luckily, due to the rain that hammered down outside, the two gentlemen were the only customers in the café, but I was sure I heard them chuckle at Leah's mocking. In such a small town, they would surely tell someone they knew, then someone else, and eventually Billy would be telling Jake to stay away from the husband-murderer – or the Black Widow as they used to call me in the press.

Charlie's warm smile took me away from my thoughts. "Excited, sweetheart?"

"Like I keep saying Dad, we're just going out as friends."

"I know, but after everything's that happened," He cleared his throat awkwardly. "You deserve a little bit of fun."

"Thanks, Dad. That's very sweet."

Charlie smiled thinly. "Would you mind just grabbing some milk for Sue on the way home? Billy's coming down with Jonathan tonight to watch the game so I won't be back 'til late, and you know she can't go without her tea."

"Of course. I'll pop into _Joe's_."

"You're a darling."

After grabbing my rucksack from the back office, I waved to Leah once more and climbed into the cab of my truck, switching on my ancient radio player. An old Pink Floyd song filled the snug space, spliced together with snippets of a football game as the player struggled to find a strong signal. Turning down the volume until it played away in the background, I made the short drive to _Joe's_ and ran towards the shop to avoid the wet.

The shop seemed to be in the same condition as the café – largely quiet – and I nodded at the teenage assistant as I walked inside. He glanced in my direction briefly before going back to scrolling on his cell-phone. They appeared to have moved the milk jugs to the far side of the shop, so I began to make my way in that direction when I heard a familiar voice. In fact, there were two voices that I recognized.

"Just one chocolate bar, Maddi," Jessica Stanley's shrill voice came from the front of the shop, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet raced across the linoleum.

"Do you think this is really wise, Jess? You know what sugar does to her." Mike Newton pestered his wife. I had heard in one of Leah's letters that the two had gotten married around three years ago, just after the birth of their first child, but I hadn't seen them since I had returned to Forks, and I didn't picture today as our big reunion.

Without looking first, I quickly ducked into the nearest aisle, the one just before my destination.

And straight into the hard chest of a towering man.

"Oh, God, I'm such a klutz!" I exclaimed, pulling myself away from the body I had just collided with. Instinctively, upon impact, I had clasped the biceps of my victim and seemingly still held onto them as I apologized, feeling them dance underneath my palms. Looking upwards into the eyes of the poor guy, I was met by a pair of green orbs that had fallen upon me before.

"Do you always touch the arms of men you've just met?" Edward asked with a crooked smirk, glancing at the view of my petite hands against his grey, winter coat. I swiftly ripped them away. "Or am I a fortunate exception?"

"We've met before," I corrected, my voice a little abrupter than expected. "And I didn't try to grab your arms then."

"I remember. Would you have tried if I let you?" Edward's tone was quiet, puzzled; it reminded me of a curious child.

I didn't know what to reply so I just kind of stared, open-mouthed. I was grateful that I was wearing my own winter jacket so he could not see the goosebumps that now littered my arms.

"Just kidding." Edward chuckled, his voice low and husky. "What brings you here on such a rainy evening?"

"I was getting some milk for Sue," I'm glad he had asked the question because I had completely forgotten why I was at _Joe's_. "My stepmom. You?"

"I was on a walk."

"In a grocery store?" It was my turn to do the pushing.

"I like looking at the…uhm…" Edward turned behind him, grabbed a bag of green vegetables, and lifted it playfully. "Beans."

"Alright, that's cool." I debated asking him what his favorite bean was, but I didn't want to make the conversation stranger than it already was. "I'd better get going anyway. I'll be late for dinner."

"Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you. It's Isabella, isn't it?"

"Just Bella. Call me Bella, please."

"Alright, _Bella_ ," He grinned as he said my name; it sounded wonderful in his voice. "Be careful not to grab the arms of too many men. Your friend might get jealous on your little date."

I didn't have the chance to reply before Edward pushed past me and disappeared out of the shop, as though he had never been there in the first place. It took me a few moments to comprehend what had just happened, similar to the way I had reacted to Jake and I's first conversation. _Had I always been this weak around men? What an awful thought._

I quickly paid for the milk and sped back home in my truck, trying to keep my head as empty as possible.

I did not even notice Sue standing in the kitchen as I came through the front door, dazed.

"Good day at work?"

"Uh, quiet. I got milk for you."

"Your dad did get my message – thank you, love." Sue tilted her head in confusion. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just drained, I think. I'm gonna go get ready now."

"Wonderful! Let me know if you need my help."

I simply nodded at my stepmom and wandered upstairs. My room was directly at the top of the staircase, and I was grateful to Charlie for sending me home early – I needed to lay down for a little while. I did not think I had the energy to go through this reaction every time I interacted with a member of the male species.

Except, as soon as I walked through the door, a hand was abruptly clamped across my mouth.

"Bella, when I let you go, I need you to stay extremely quiet for me." Edward's smooth voice whispered into my ear, although this time with a slight rasp. My heart thundered away in my ears and I debated trying to bite one of his fingers. _Why did I always attract such strange men?_

He slowly released his hand from my mouth, and stepped away from me, closing the door behind us.

"I can explain," Edward held up two hands, mimicking a pose in surrender. I breathed heavily.

"Yeah, you've got a lot of explaining to do," I queried. "Why the _fuck_ are you in my bedroom?"

"I promise I will tell you everything," He lowered his voice until it was barely audible. "I just need you to get into bed."

" _I'm sorry?!_ "

"Please."

"Have you lost your mind?" If my eyes could pop out of their sockets, they would be rolling around on my bedroom floor. "I'm going out in an hour, and you still haven't told me why you're standing in my bedroom! Is this because of the date comment you made? Did you follow me ho-"

Edward put one finger over his mouth, cutting me off from my rant. "I will explain everything in five minutes. Please, just get into bed and face away from the door."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Fine. But I am not doing this for you. I'm just doing it so you'll tell me why you think it's acceptable to stalk me."

"Great, that's wonderful," Edward sounded impatient as he pulled open the doors of my walk-in closet, eyes darting towards the door.

"I can't wait to hear what your issue is." Falling into bed with a _humph_ , I pulled the covers over my head, facing away from my bedroom door. Was this some sick joke? Was he going to take a picture of me, and tell his friends he'd slept with the Black Widow? _Was he going to rob me?_

Just as I was about to sit up to give Edward another earful, I heard my bedroom door open slowly, clicking as it closed back into place.

Was Dad about to see that I had snuck a boy into my room? I sounded like I was twelve again – _I sounded stupid._

Listening as the footsteps approached the far window, I pulled the covers down to sneak a peek at the trespasser.

My gaze fell straight upon my dead ex-fiancé.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh, it's starting to get juicy! Not going to lie, I did a little happy dance when this chapter came together!
> 
> As always, let me know what you think :)  
> Hope you're loving the direction this is heading in x


	4. People Lie All the Time

It felt as though life had suddenly mutated into my worst nightmare, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not seem to force myself awake. I felt like throwing up and passing out at the same time, my stomach lurching with every step James took.

The man I used to love. The man I supposedly murdered in cold blood on the night of our engagement. The man who let me rot in prison for most of my twenties for a crime I never committed and allowed me to become public enemy number one across America. The man who ruined my life.

_Was walking, breathing – alive._

I concentrated with all my might to keep my breathing at a somewhat normal pace, even though the breath burned in my lungs and I struggled to keep my gaze on James through the tears stinging my eyes.

Was this some kind of sick joke he had been playing on me for all these years? To see if I was truly worthy of his family's vast fortune? I remembered how protective they used to be of who they interacted with, but this took it to a ridiculous extreme.

Was Edward somehow involved in all of this? My mind showed me images of the two of them sending messages back and forth to one another, mocking me, laughing at the nightmare of my existence. I had fallen victim to James' wicked streak more times than I could count during our tumultuous relationship, so I wouldn't have put it past him. Edward, on the other hand – I barely knew the man, but it seemed like he knew more about me than I had realized.

Maybe it was just some mucked-up coincidence that Edward was waiting in my room and that my dead ex-fiancé then decided to crash the party?

_Jesus._

I made sure I kept one eye cracked open slightly to watch James as he crept around my childhood bedroom, fingering my lilac curtains, and pausing to caress a jumper that lay neglected over the wooden desk chair. He seemed to pay particular attention to the photo of Mom and me that I kept framed upon my dresser. I barely spoke of my mother in the time I spent with James – she had died when I was seven and now, twenty-one years later, it still broke my heart to think about her final moments, alone, crying out as the car burned in the darkness. He rubbed a thumb over my youthful face, and then Mom's, before taking the frame apart and pocketing the photo.

I could not help the groan that escaped my lips, but I caught it just in time to pass it off as a drowsy yawn. James froze, keeping his back to me, and it took all of my strength to stay in the bed. The desire in me to follow through with the crime I had been sent down for, the murder of James, pulsated through my veins and the tears dissipated into flames of anger. Maybe I would get to use some of the tips I had learned in prison after all.

It seemed as though my noise had spooked James and he stuffed one of my work shirts into his coat pocket before climbing out of my bedroom window. I waited until his footsteps crunched on the leaves that littered our pathway and proceeded to rip the covers away from my perfervid body. I felt as though I was about to explode.

Scrambling away from the confines of my bed, I lunged towards the open window, but Edward clasped his arms around my torso before I reached it. I fought against his grip, hoping that he would put me down. Instead, he only squeezed me tighter.

"I'm not going to let you go until you promise me you're not going to jump through that window."

"I'm not," I spat through gritted teeth.

"I don't believe you."

He was right not to trust me. I wanted more than anything to throw myself onto the ground below, wrap my hands around James' neck, and just _squeeze_. Changing the course of my thoughts, I let out a slightly exaggerated breath.

"It would be pointless anyway. I'd probably break a leg jumping down, or I would certainly twist an ankle at least." I feigned calming my writhing body. "You can let me go."

"Promise you're not going to try anything?"

"I promise." He did not see my toes crossed in my sneakers.

"Good," Edward seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and unwrapped his arms from around me. I smiled thinly at him, standing still momentarily. Then, I pulled the bedroom door open and headed for the stairs. I knew he wouldn't be able to chase me, not with Sue around.

Instead, he decided to thrust his body into mine, and we collectively crashed onto the landing with an almighty _thump._

I tried to wriggle my way out from underneath him and even considered kneeing him in the groin, but he seemed to be one step ahead of me now. Squeezing both hands around my wrists and using his hips to pin me down, I was his prisoner – solely and completely his for the taking. My brown eyes glowered into his green ones, just as they had at _Joe's_ ; although now, a feverous intensity brewed between us. Our chests brushed together as we both breathed raggedly, our faces inches from one another. _If I just leaned up slightly…_

"Goodness, Isabella, is everything alright up there?" Sue called up from the kitchen, sounding alarmed. She must have thought I was coming through the floorboards.

"Uhh, it was Pickles. He was hiding in a pile of laundry I had, and I fell in surprise. Sorry for scaring you." Pickles was our family cat. In truth, he sat in the doorway of Seth's room, licking furiously at one of his dark paws.

With knowledge of my infamous clumsiness, Sue seemed to have accepted my excuse and did not press any further. I heard her move into the laundry room at the front of the house.

" _Get. Off. Of. Me._ " I whispered at Edward. As much as I enjoyed the weight of him on top of me, I did not want to run the risk of Sue seeing us.

"Not after what you just did. You can't be trusted in such close proximity to him." He muttered back, closing his eyes, and breathing in deeply. He looked as though he was focusing on something.

"What are you doing?"

"We need to talk."

"No shit, Sherlock. If you get off me, we can."

"Not here," Edward still had not opened his eyes and breathed in deeply again. "We need to go somewhere else."

"Where?"

Suddenly, it felt as though the floor fell out from underneath me, and I was being sucked into a darkness by some unwavering force. As though I was upon a childish merry-go-round, my body began to spin in the expansive nothingness as a kaleidoscope of colors cascaded around me. Edward's weight continued to press against my chest, but the pressure had increased twofold; as though his form was about to tear straight through mine.

When the colors returned to normal, I did not recognize the street that ebbed and flowed around me. Horses pulled immense carts along behind them, as suited men in top hats were in charge of their reins. The women that brushed past Edward and I wore dark skirts that draped along the floor, and white shirts that billowed in the breeze. The air felt different, dirtier. A strange atmosphere suffocated the world around us. I wrapped my own hands around Edward's arms for safety.

"Edward… _where are we?_ "

"London, 1816."

It was only then that I passed out.

{ xxx }

When I awoke, the bed beneath me was hard and unforgiving, engulfed by a cover with a horrendous pattern; the type I saw in the history museums Charlie would sometimes drag me to. Draped curtains hung above my head, fashioned as though they were surrounding a window, while the real one was nestled into the wall next to me. A chandelier hung from the high ceiling but was not the crystallized type, like the one you see in fancy houses. This one looked quite worn down. I could practically taste the dust in the air.

The covers felt slightly wet against my skin and I figured that my work shirt had gotten wet on the sidewalk earlier when Edward was pinning me down.

_Edward._

The memory of my current predicament hit me like a ton of bricks, and I sat bolt upright in the bed.

"Ah, you're awake," I hadn't noticed him standing in the doorway, chatting inaudibly with a blonde woman dressed in a long skirt and shirt, almost identical to the others I had seen. Much like the apron that still hung around my waist, the woman also wore one, although her's was white and frilly.

"Careful, love, don't make yourself sick," she said, her cockney accent puncturing the tense atmosphere that hung in the room. Even though I'd already remembered where Edward had taken me, I was still shocked; I had never heard an actual British accent before.

As she spoke, my head started to throb, and I pressed a palm against my temple.

"I'll take it from here, Elizabeth. Thanks again for the room." Edward dropped his voice to a low husk, its alluring tone undeniable. The man's enchantment was overpowering, and I didn't blame her when she giggled in the doorway.

"Of course, Edward, it was a pleasure, as always." Elizabeth curtsied, pulling her dress away from her legs and bowing her head slightly. I cleared my throat, perhaps a bit too obviously, as it caused Elizabeth to shoot back up. "Tell Carlisle I said hello. I hope he is well."

"I shall let Carlisle and Esme know that we crossed paths. I can assure you they will pass by when they are next in London." Elizabeth smiled delicately, her lips barely lifting at the sides. She nodded at me before scurrying away, and Edward closed the door behind her, turning towards the bed.

"How're you feeling?" He inquired, perching on the end of the mattress. His eyes darted back and forth between my own and I guessed that he was looking for any sign of hurt, but the whole interaction made me feel quite vulnerable.

"Groggy. My whole body aches. I feel like I've been hit by a bus." Glancing out of the window, I saw that the sky was dark. "How long was I out for?"

"Only a couple of hours, but it was quite late when we arrived. We were just around the corner from Reginald's place, and, fortunately, you're not too heavy to carry."

I blushed at the image of my head nestled against his chest. At least, that's how I imagined he'd carried me up here – he could have thrown me over his shoulder for all I knew, but my idea made me feel slightly better. He continued assessing my face and went to place a hand across my forehead. I batted it away.

"Are you sure you don't feel anything else?" As if on cue, my stomach rumbled.

"Hungry, I suppose. I didn't have time to eat on shift."

Edward grinned in a crooked manner and leaped to his feet ridiculously, holding his hand out towards me. I raised an eyebrow. "What was that for?"

"Have you ever been to an old English tavern before?"

"I can't say that I have."

"Luckily for your stomach, we're just above one. Put your shoes on and we'll grab a table."

Throwing off the hideous covers, I glanced down at my attire. I still wore my work shirt, apron, and Levi's – hardly suitable for 1816. "Do I need to change? Won't they be able to know that we're not from here?"

"You won't need to worry about that, Bella, I can assure you. Now, come on." Throwing my apron onto the unmade bed, I followed Edward out of the safety of the room and made my first steps into 19th Century England.

The corridor that Edward led me down was poorly lit, but I could just about make out a myriad of doors that lined the wooden walls, and my sneakers padded over a thick rug. I couldn't make out the material it was made from, but it once again adorned an ugly pattern. I was silently glad that this type of furniture did not stay in fashion.

A cacophony of stringed instruments faintly floated up to where Edward and I were, and only seemed to get louder as we approached a staircase at the end of the corridor. I looked down when we reached the top. A throng of people littered the tavern below, dressed in an abundance of peculiar outfits, each one appearing as though from a different century. The ambiance within the room was electric as people danced about, banging large glasses of amber-colored liquid together and singing along to the live band, playing a tune I didn't recognize.

I felt as though I was in a movie.

"You coming, Bella?" I heard a voice call from the bottom of the stairs, and, in my awe, I hadn't noticed that Edward had already descended them, standing next to an old gentleman with an impressive beard. He nodded his head in greeting and I went to join them.

"I'm sorry, I got distracted."

"You should have seen young Edward the first time he visited us," The man's accent was hoarser than Elizabeth's, yet just as impressive. I figured that he was Reginald. I could not help but smile as he clapped Edward on the back playfully and the two chuckled with one another. "I could barely get a word outta him, he was in such shock."

"I can see why."

"Let me find you two a table," Reginald glanced around briefly before leading us towards a round table near the back of the room. To get there, we had to maneuver past the crowd, and I heard a myriad of languages as I wandered by. Spanish, French, _Russian_.

I had a feeling that this wasn't any old English tavern.

Settling into a rickety wooden chair, Edward positioned himself across from me. "We'll each take a pint, Reg."

Without a word, Reginald lumbered off in the direction of the bar, and swiftly bought back two of the large glasses of amber.

"Are we still-" I asked Edward once we were alone. I had to raise my voice so that he could hear me over the babbling around us.

"In London? Yeah, we are." He nodded, taking a sip from one of the glasses before him. I mimicked his actions, curling my lips in disgust as the sour liquid hit my tongue.

"What is this?"

Edward laughed. "It's beer, a specialty in England. Do you not like it?"

"I wouldn't say it's the best thing I've ever tasted."

"They don't know how unhealthy it is yet," Edward explained, taking another sip; I didn't join him this time. "They give it to kids, you know."

"Surely not!"

"Just a little glass," He made a gesture with his fingers, showing me the sizing. "But the kids love it."

"At least someone does," I quipped back, looking around to see if I could spot any children drinking the foul liquid. I couldn't. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but we're not in a normal tavern, are we?"

Edward raised his eyebrows. "You're perceptive _and_ you're right; it's not a normal place. It's only for a _specific_ kind of customer."

"Which is…?"

"The kind that can do what we just did."

I nodded slowly, waiting to realize what Edward meant. I was stumped. "And what was that?"

"You really don't know?" I shook my head. "Okay, how do I put this in simple terms? Have you seen _Back to the Future_?"

It was Dad's favorite movie. "Of course I have. How is that relevant?"

"Well, you know that old scientist uses the car to travel back in time?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, that's what I did. Just now. With you. Minus the flashy car."

"We just time-traveled?"

Edward nodded and rolled his eyes. "A very cliché term for it, but yes."

I joined him in nodding and actually reached for another sip of my beer – anything to dull the shock of what Edward had just told me.

"Why are you not freaking out more?" He prodded gently and I shrugged.

"Not gonna lie, I've had a pretty crazy life so far. I've learned there's no benefit in 'freaking out' anymore. I've been 'freaking out' for almost seven years straight."

He chucked, seemingly amused by my answer, but I was simply being truthful. After glancing around the room again, I turned back to find Edward fiercely staring at me.

"Do you have anything you wanted to ask?" He said.

I stared back at him, dumbfounded. "Like what?"

"Well, if a strange man that I barely knew broke into my bedroom, wrestled me to the ground, and then took me to an English tavern in 1816 without any explanation, I think I would have a few questions."

_Oh, yes; that elephant in the room._

"Uhm, sure," I tapped my index finger against my lips. "I guess I could start with… _why_?"

"Going for the big one first? You're brave too," Edward shuffled in his chair. "Basically, we need your help."

" _We_?"

"Yes, 'we' – us, the Covenant."

"Alright, you've lost me again."

He leaned forward on his elbows; our faces came close together again. "The Covenant is an ancient organization of time-jumpers. We follow criminals through fractures in time, hunting them down in different centuries. We're tasked with hunting the most dangerous of fugitives, the types that hold the power to manipulate eternity – _the worst of the worst_."

"Okay, I think I'm back," _So, Edward was a time-jumper? Not quite what I was expecting._ "I still don't understand why you need me…"

"You see, your ex-fiancé, James, is notorious within the Covenant. On our most wanted list, he holds the top spot. He's been manipulating time for _centuries_."

"What? My James, my _dead_ James, is some sort of time fugitive?"

"Exactly."

"But _how_? He's dead- or was dead- _is dead_." I was confusing myself. "You get what I mean."

"He time-jumped Bella." Edward disclosed. "He wasn't supposed to go to the time that he did; he wasn't supposed to meet you. He framed you for his murder so that he could keep searching."

"For who?"

"She's been trying to get away from him for years. She keeps jumping around. We can never accurately track her."

"Edward, _who_?"

"She seems to prefer 18th Century France. Paris, to be ex-"

" _Edward_ ," I spat through my teeth. I think I finally knew who it was. " _Who is James hunting?_ "

"Your mother," Edward answered, looking intensely at me as though he could see straight through to the other side. "James is trying to kill your mother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh goodness, another bombshell! Who'd have seen that coming??
> 
> Hopefully you don't mind ANOTHER bombshell - let me know how you're liking things :)


	5. Under the Midnight Sun

The rest of Edward and I's session at the tavern consisted of various conversations with other Covenant members, Elizabeth complimenting my sneakers, and me mostly sitting in uncomfortable silence, mind reeling. My ability to take things on the chin was slowly starting to wane. In the space of an evening, I had not only discovered that my fiancé wasn't actually dead, and that I had wrongfully served a seven-year prison sentence for his staged murder, but that my mother was also alive.

Renée, a woman I solely recalled through images in Charlie's old photo albums, was now a living, breathing… _time-jumper_ trying to escape the murderous clutches of James, and had been doing so since before I was even born. I had faint memories of multiple weekends with Dad while Mom went away on 'work trips' – I never dreamed that it actually translated to, "I'm just off to jump centuries, see you in five!"

After finishing our drinks and saying goodbye to Reginald and Elizabeth, Edward and I traipsed back upstairs to the room I had woken up in, a room that I discovered was held by Edward's father, Carlisle, for whenever any of the family wanted to drop into 19th Century England for a weekend.

_Casual_.

"Oh no," I exclaimed as we walked inside, and Edward's eyes widened in horror. He shot out his hands momentarily, as though to grab me, but then hesitated.

"What's wrong? Do you feel sick?" Edward's voice was tinged with panic. I felt warm at the thought of him caring about my wellbeing.

"No, it's not that," Guilt washed over me. "I was meant to be meeting Jake tonight, to show him around Forks, and now I've missed it! I bet he was waiting at _The Lodge_ for hours – he must be so upset with me!"

Edward laughed and I shot daggers at him.

"Do you think that's funny?" I challenged.

"No, I just love it when people don't quite understand the laws of time-jumping. Any time periods that you're not actually in move at an hour a minute. I'm not quite sure how they managed to pull it off in the beginning, but they did."

"Oh," I responded – as quickly as the guilt surfaced, it dissipated. "So that means…?"

"We've been in London for roughly six hours, so," Edward pulled a pocket-watch from the inner lining of his coat and checked it. "It should only be 5:06 in Forks."

"You're joking."

"Deadly serious."

"Good," It felt easier to breathe again. "That's good."

"Are you looking forward to it?" Edward asked. His voice had a tinge of innocence to it, and I debated momentarily about what the best answer would be.

"Yes…" I replied hesitantly. The expression on his face stayed the same – harmlessly curious. "I haven't enjoyed myself much in the last seven years."

"I can imagine human prison is quite an unpleasant experience."

I nodded, wondering what he was referencing with the word "human"; I would leave it as a question for another day. Although, I did have another inquiry for him.

"Uhm…" I looked down at the floor, unsure of how to word it. "You don't have to…uhm…get on top of me again for us to travel back, do you?"

This time, Edward's laugh was a full-on chortle. The hearty sound came from his stomach, and he put his hands on his knees as he got it out of his system. When he stood back up, he wiped a tear from his eye.

"Oh, Bella, that's the best thing you've said all day. Not at all; otherwise, time jumping would be a very popular pastime. We just need to be touching in some way so I can pull you through time until you learn the trick yourself."

"Okay, that's good."

"Which reminds me, you'll have to meet my family to start your introduction to time-jumping – I'll come to yours tomorrow at 8."

Before I had a chance to protest, he spoke again.

"You know, I _can_ get on top of you again if you'd prefer that?" Edward teased, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. I almost choked.

"Oh, no, that's okay. I'll be fine without that, thanks."

He smirked and held his hand out. I took it in mine and the floor, once again, fell out from beneath us.

{ xxx }

After throwing on a different, more presentable, outfit, I got Sue to drop me off at _The Lodge_ , a beautiful and intimate bar in the heart of town. Although, when compared to Reginald's tavern, it lost a hint of its previous magic.

The black boots that I had dug out of my wardrobe had not been worn for a while, and it was clear that my feet had grown accustomed to flat shoes as angry blisters already decorated my heels. I was grateful that I had remembered to pack some band-aids in my side bag but didn't think they would be necessary. Forks was a pretty small town; I was confident that there wouldn't be a lot of walking involved.

Jacob was waiting outside of the establishment when we arrived, smoking a cigarette against a streetlight. His posture was relaxed as he bought the small stick to his mouth and blew out a puff of smoke; I liked the way that the action looked on him. Unlike our first meeting, he had hidden his muscular arms under the confines of a leather jacket, complimented perfectly by a white t-shirt and tight black jeans. The dark biker boots topped off my bad-boy fantasy.

If I'd known how attractive the men in Forks would be, I wouldn't have hated the idea of coming back so much.

"Hey, Jake," I called out as I approached. He looked startled at the sudden noise but then raised a hand in greeting.

"Hey, Bella," He looked slightly nervous, taking another drag from the cigarette. "It's a horrible habit. I'm tryin' to stop but they just keep pulling me back in."

"No need to apologize," I assured him as I gestured towards the instrument in his mouth. He passed it over, and I inhaled my own cloud of smoke, expelling it into the night air. "I used to smoke myself for years. I'd been clean for a month until now."

"Then, I've gotta apologize again. I shouldn't have tempted you."

"Life's too short to worry about a little cigarette." I joked before crushing the butt under the heel of my boot. "Shall we?"

I followed Jacob inside the bar's quaint space, and we pulled up two chairs on a high table next to the bar. My heels rested comfortably on the stool's footrest, and I was silently grateful for the relief it granted my feet.

"Let me get the first round," He insisted, pushing himself up from the table. "What's your poison?"

It had been so long since I had been out for a drink that I had forgotten what my 'poison' was. "Humor me. I'm not fussy."

With a grin, Jake sauntered towards the bar and began talking to the lady serving drinks; within minutes, she was giggling at his jokes. I could not deny the warm energy that radiated off of Jacob, like a much-needed hug on a cold, winter's day. He had a kind soul.

"I went for whiskey, if that's cool with you," He stated when he returned to our seats, placing a glass of dark liquid in front of me. Unlike the drink I had been presented at Reginald's earlier, the drink's oaky taste was soothing on my tastebuds.

"It's perfect, thank you. How did you know I like it neat?"

"I dunno," Jake admitted, taking a swig out of his green beer bottle. "You just strike me as the type."

Narrowing my eyes slightly, I raised an eyebrow. "Is it that obvious?"

"For sure. You seem pretty out there, _loca_."

I couldn't stop the blush that crept onto my face and I looked away in embarrassment, rubbing my bottom lip between my thumb and forefinger. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Jake smiled softly. "I didn't mean it any other way."

"So, uhm, how's construction been going at the school?" I enquired, desperate to change the topic of conversation before I embarrassed myself anymore.

"It's going, I suppose. Just the same old, same old. Rewiring; _a lot_ of rewiring. Fixing things that should have been fixed almost a decade ago."

I giggled as I thought back to my teenaged years in the hallways of Forks High School. One of the restroom doors always hung dangerously from its hinges and one time, between classes, a tile from the ceiling fell on the head of one of my classmates – a quiet girl called Angela Weber. I wondered what the hallways looked like now.

"Sounds riveting," I said, my voice tinged with playfulness.

"As boring as it sounds, it's my passion." Jake shook his head. "God, that makes me sound so boring."

"Not at all!" I reassured. "We all have our own loves in life. What made you get into construction in the first place?"

"Billy used to be a construction worker before he lost the use of his legs. So did my grandfather, and every other male in the Black family for generations. I had been putting it off for long enough, but it caught up with me eventually."

"No way, I didn't know Billy used to work construction."

"He's a man of many talents." Jake joked.

"What did you want to do before, you know, you caught the construction bug?"

"I wanted to go traveling," He admitted, and his voice sounded sad. I placed one of my hands on his arm resting upon the table, and he smiled slightly. "See as much of the world as I could. I've always wanted to spend one of my summers in Paris."

"What's stopping you?"

"Money," He said, looking defeated. "We've never been rich; we've always just kind of got by. When Mom decided to move to Canada, she spent the rest of our savings. I'm still waiting to pay Billy back for my flight here."

"Jake, I'm so sorry…"

"It's no one's fault. Just circumstances."

The two of us fell into silence and I regretted asking Jake such deep questions. _Maybe my banter isn't as polished as it used to be,_ I thought as I sipped at my drink and racked my brain for something to say.

"The atmosphere here isn't great," Jake pointed out, draining the last sips of his drink. "Did you fancy getting out of here?"

"So soon?" I suddenly felt even more boring.

"We're basically the only two people here. I bet we could find something more exciting to do." Jake said with a wink.

It only took one glance behind me to understand why Jake wanted to leave. Apart from our table, the only other customers were another couple making out in the booth by the window and the woman who served Jacob our drinks. I grimaced and nodded.

"Fancy a ride on my bike? The forest 'round here is gorgeous at night."

"…Your pushbike?" I didn't fancy hanging off the back of a BMX like a fifteen-year-old.

"No, Bella," Jacob laughed. "I have my motorbike out back."

"I don't think you should be driving after drinking." I said uneasily.

With a smirk, Jacob turned his beer bottle around and showed me the label. _Alcohol-free_.

"Oh," I felt relieved. "Sure, that sounds really fun."

Finishing my whisky, which had been slightly watered down by the ice-cubes in the glass, I expressed gratitude towards the barmaid and accompanied Jacob to the parking lot. The temperature outside had dropped dramatically, and I regretted the denim jacket that hung from my shoulders. I shuddered slightly, pulling the thin material tighter around my body. Jacob noticed my movement.

"Here, take mine." He said, sliding off his own jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders.

"Won't you be cold?" I felt extremely guilty stealing his jacket from him but relished in its warmth and the manly scent that wafted from its creases.

"I'm quite warm-blooded." Jake winked in my direction and threw a leg over either side of the motorbike's seat. Much like earlier, he perfectly embodied the image of the bad boy you wouldn't take home to your parents. His muscular arms were, once again, exposed to my gaze and I ate up every moment that they flexed before me. His motorbike was sleek, modern; newly embezzled with a glistening black paint of coat.

He gestured for me to join him, and I eagerly jumped onto the back, pulling my body flush to his. My mind thought back to this afternoon with Edward's hands wrapped around my waist, and my body became hot. I shook my head.

This wasn't what I was like. I didn't think I had missed male attention this much in jail.

"Helmet or not?" Jacob called from the front. "I'll let you in on a tip – it's more liberating if you feel the wind in your hair."

"You're the expert here," I assured; Jake responded by kicking the bike into life. A ferocious snarl filled the silence that once suffocated the parking lot, and it continued to growl as we sped away from _The Lodge_ and into the dark expanse of night.

My eyes burned as the beast raced through the streets of Forks, the faces of its inhabitants appearing to me like a blur. My heart opened up in ecstasy, and I finally understood how birds felt after being released from their cages. The feeling was only emphasized by the knowledge that James and my mother were actually alive – I felt as though I suddenly knew who I truly was. I felt like I could breathe, finally, for the first time in seven years.

_I wasn't a murderer._

I opened my mouth and howled into the darkness. Jacob chuckled at my outburst, and pressing down harder on the accelerator, we continued forward into the intoxicating twilight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I keep trying to stick to a schedule with this book but I'm getting way too excited by it all! I love seeing it all come together and I hope you are loving it just as much!
> 
> I've never quite worked with the topic of time-travel before so I hope I'm doing it justice :)
> 
> Let me know what you think!


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